new season?

We’ve been having some very confusing weather of late. We have had beautiful balmy weekends that seem to herald the arrival of spring and then wet and cold weeks where the wind is blowing straight off the antarctic.

cold morning

I am finding it very frustrating. I don’t know whether to hang my washing or put it in the dryer. I don’t know whether to take an umbrella or not. I don’t quite know what the season is, and I just wish it would make up its mind so I could plan.

After one particularly beautiful weekend I changed the word blocks in my house to read “new season” and it seemed like the whole week that followed it sat there mocking me, as the rain poured down outside.

See I have been straining, struggling to look ahead, to see what is next for me. I am wondering, and praying, seeking and searching and yet it still doesn’t reveal itself. I am waiting desperately to see the first buds of a new opportunity, my next thing and yet I still haven’t finished all that is in this season. I am rushing ahead, and it is not working for me.

So I have left those words up, “new season” and slowly, slowly I felt the truth in that little reminder.

Just like the flowering plum outside there is preparation going on. I can see the tiny buds starting to sprout. With no hint of flower yet, but they are getting themselves ready. I can see the kangaroo paws, putting up their flower spikes, waiting for the right time to unfurl. But not quite yet.

See nature knows that winter is not quite over yet. It knows that this time of preparation is important. It knows that one season needs to end for another to begin.

And as I have looked at those words with the rain pouring outside I have seen that, yes, the new season is coming, but it will come in it’s own time. So I need to get up, look at what the weather is today! Not tomorrow, not a week from now, and act accordingly.

I need to get up and do what is on my plate today, and while I dream about the ‘what next’, and anticipate the new blossom, I also need to remember that like the plum trees, this season is preparing me for the next.

Jodie

 

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